


In Loving Memory

by Bates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Divorce, F/F, F/M, Genres: angst, Grief, Letters, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, past character death (not displayed in fic itself)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:42:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/Bates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Jessica lose their baby girl just weeks after being born. Left with the grief and sadness while still caring for her brother weighs on them, more than they'd like to admit. When Gabriel suggests that he should write a letter to her, he starts writing her one every year.<br/>The story of Sam Winchester falling out of love, in love and grieving, told through letters to their child that never got to grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Loving Memory

 

_Leaving flowers on your grave_

_Show that I still care_

_But black roses and Hail Mary's_

_Can't bring back what's taken from me_

_I reach to the sky_

_And call out your name_

_And if I could trade_

_I would_

 

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/mercifulsammy/73941226/549/549_original.png)

Sam felt the all too familiar weight settle in his chest, even now it still felt like somebody had dropped a bombshell on him. It was like a physical ache to show him _prove him_ he was standing where today a high school graduate should be. _She was supposed to be there_. It was a dangerous thought and he knew it. Even after eighteen years, the grieve sometimes still felt sharp as a blade. It was there coiling inside of him for no purpose other than break him to pieces. _Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. –_ A hand slipped into his; fingers intertwined his. _Six. Five. Four. Three._ A warm body leaned against his. _Two. One. Breathe. Open your eyes._

“Sam. You okay?” He was quiet as he looked down at Grace’s grave. The new flowers stood in stark contrast with the rest of the child burial site. Some of them had been abandoned or had dried flowers now. Losing a child might be there, but not every parent wanted to be reminded of it like they were.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he promised. Gabriel had seen worse; he’d seen him at the hospital, _brought him in_ on that horrid night years ago. “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not, are you?”

“She should have been there. She didn’t graduate today. Of course I’m not.” Arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tight. “It shouldn’t still get to me like this, should it.” _Hum a song, if you need to. It’ll help calm you down._

“She’s your daughter Sam. Of course, it gets to you. It always will.” Sam knew that. He knew he’d be standing next to Jess and watch Nick graduate. Sam would drive his son to college and wish him good luck with his studies. He’d do all those things with him and still wonder what God decided this was fair. “Come back to the car, Nick is worried. He called.”

“You’re supposed to be at work. Fuck, Gabe.”

“It’s okay. I had some time I needed to take off before the end of the week anyway.” A gentle hand tugged him away from the grave. “Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Grace,_

 

_Your godfather has told me many things along the way. At university, it was that studying was boring and I should come hang out with him. Not counting those useless facts, he’s also taught me to change diapers, how to press your tongue to the roof of my mouth so I can’t smell the poop as much._

_He’s a talker. A big one. (Which is ironic, considering the fact he’s smaller than your mother.) He’s said a lot and while not a lot of those things were pieces of divine wisdom, there are a few.  One of those is that he loves it when Nick clings to him whenever he stays a night to help out with him. It’s a feeling I understand. Sometimes, I catch your brother at the right moment, right as he’s waking up and is smiling around his pacifier and can’t help but laugh as well, a smile too big it feels my skin might rupture at the corners._

_This was one piece of wisdom, here is another; Gabriel said was that it would help to write._

 

_Today marks the day it has been a full year since we saw our little baby girl smile at us for the very last time._

_It’s not the complete truth, in the days before, you hadn’t quite been responsive either and had been mainly disoriented, but it was something. On the day they took you off all the machines, you woke up and smiled at the both of us one final time._

_I clearly remember not knowing whether to laugh, smile or cry. I’m sure I did all of them. It’s been over three hundred days since your mother gave birth to two beautiful babies (and admittedly, I fainted in the hospital room). One girl with five little toes on each foot and a set of small little fingers already almost sharp enough to scratch. A wonderful little girl with a set of lungs that worked alright._

_Not just a baby girl, but also a quiet and observant little boy. I remember the first time I held you both; you kicking against my arm and moving while your brother just looked. Nick seemed to be just fascinated by the sudden change of scenery. We got a perfectly balanced out pair that early January morning._

 

_It’s March 2nd, 2001 and it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair because we celebrated Nick’s first birthday a month ago and you weren’t there. You should have been, crawling around between all the toys and chewing on your pacifier. You should have been there to smash cake with him._

_Gabriel got me to write a letter to your brother, about what he’d done that year, what I wish for him in the next year. It’s stashed away in a box for the day he turns eighteen. On that day, he will get to read them all. He’ll read all about his childhood._

_I can’t do that with you, can I baby girl? I can’t write you a letter about all the things you have done the past year because you didn’t do any of them. You never smiled at us in actual recognition  or crawled towards us with a smile on your face. We never even got to take you home from the hospital for more than a few days._

_There’s barely anything for us to remember in which you weren’t in the hospital, laying in an incubator fighting an infection your own body inflicted on you. You were a lost cause, which is what they told us afterwards. The weeks we had you were a blessing in disguise._

_And God how well it was hidden away that blessing. Never will I remember looking down at your mother and see the tears in her eyes, see them slid down her cheeks as she held your dying body. Your lungs had given up already, you were just clinging on for dear life._

_He was there, when you passed, your brother. On special request. The doctors wouldn’t allow it at first but we made it work. We got one more picture of the two of you together that day. There are only ten pictures on which you are together and I never thought I would say that anything hurts more._

 

_So no, I cannot write you about what you were supposed to do. What I can write you about is how life is changing around us now you’re not here and I guess what we have all been up to._

_We planted an apple tree in the garden, all of us. Your mother picked out the tree and we let your brother drop the seed in. He almost ate it, the little devil, but Jess got him not to. No matter how sad it may be that this tree will grow while you won’t, it’s a consolation. A way of remembering you when the world won’t allow us to._

_This year, your grandma got her very first grandchildren on both sides. Lisa gave birth to your nephew just a few months after you guys were born and I swear I haven’t seen her that happy and excited for a very long time. Just seeing her hold little Ben made me feel a little bit proud._

_Nick doesn’t know because he’s too young, but your uncle has been through a lot. Life hasn’t always treated him well and yet here he is, happy and thriving. Fatherhood is doing him a lot of good, even though it has helped him gain quite a few pounds. Okay scratch that, he gained weight while Lisa has lost all of her baby weight already. Your mommy Jess is jealous Grace, let me tell you that._

_Ben is happy and thriving. Just learning to mumble. Nick and he talk to each other all the time now, even though there are a few months between them. We honestly have no clue what they’re all saying, but perhaps you would. Wouldn’t be able to tell us if you did, could you baby girl?_

_Your Grandpa John is taking it, well I guess. Grumbles each time someone calls him grandpa, ‘I ain’t that old son’. I know he visits your grave at least once a week and talks to you. Grandma Mary – after who you were named – does too. Each time, they bring new flowers to replace the old ones. Which ones they bring changes, but they’re always beautiful. You’d love them._

 

_Your mother has been through a lot and still misses you, a lot. I caught her crying the other day, holding the dress you were baptized in. ‘She’s our girl but she never will be Sam’. Words have never been able to shatter my heart as quickly as in that moment._

_Mommy misses you, princess. Daddy does too. Your brother Nick does too. Some nights, we catch him looking around in the nursery as if he’s looking for someone. As if he knows it’s where you were supposed to be. If it’s any consolation, his first words were ‘mommy’, ‘daddy’ and ‘Gra’. We think it’s because we’ve talked about you so much in the past few months that he picked it up. He misses his Gra._

_Do you miss your Ni?_

 

_Love,_

_Daddy_

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Grace, last year hurt too much to write. A lot of things happened, perhaps a bit too much._

 

_Your mother left._

_It was her right, things weren’t working out for us. Your mother and I, we didn’t talk anymore, fought. Sometimes it was the tiniest things. Last time, it was about something as simple as dressing your brother in the grey or white shirt. We fought for a half an hour before she finally dressed him in her choice. I don’t think I have to tell you the fight wasn’t about the shirt._

_Separating did your mother good. You know, ever since you passed I’ve seen her smile so little, but now, she is smiling. She is laughing. It’s a good thing to see, it really is. Whenever I see her new partner, she looks happy._

_It’s weird, hearing your brother call her momma Sarah sometimes. She doesn’t say it in public, I guess your mother taught her that she’s Auntie Sarah when out. Nick has said he doesn’t understand it, but how do you tell a three-year-old that being bisexual is practically unlawful?_

 

_The truth is, Grace, it weirded me out at first; knocking on her door to pick your brother up and seeing Sarah there to invite me in for a cup of coffee, or your mother coming out to me and telling me she was seeing a woman now. I didn’t quite know how to handle it for a while._

_But Sarah is nice, loves Nick more than anything. Nick loves her too. Maybe because she lets him sleep with her when Jess is out late for work or because she’s always just that little bit more gentle.  Sarah doesn’t know you, but when your mother goes to visit your grave, she’s there. She’s seen your pictures and I think she holds you in her heart as well._

 

_Grace, things are changing. Both good and bad._

_Your godfather has taken to taking care of me, in a way. Gabriel has never been a great cook but now he’s cooking for us and I don’t know what is happening here, honestly._

_I really don’t know._

 

_But your brother is growing and becoming such a big boy. He’s all smiles and energy. We lose him in the supermarket all the time, he runs around and makes us chase him. He’s climbed the trees in the backyard with Gabriel there - which admittedly, I freaked out over, majorly. Gabriel - like the jerk he is - just laughed and told me not to stress it. He’s so much more relaxed with the kids than I am._

_He’s taller now, blonder. Every day I keep being taken aback by how quickly he’s growing and how much more he looks like Jess every day. Same eyes and probably one day, same smile and laugh. Did you know he has these little dimples? Makes me want to pick him up and hug him tight, to never let him go._

_Something he told me was ‘not okay daddy’ after coming back from kindergarten. A little girl had just told them all that she’d gotten a little sister and he was angry. Angry because his sister was taken from him. Psychologists may say that kids don’t remember, but they do._ They do. _He was taught how to count to ten and proudly said ‘I three!’ over dinner last week. He’s officially stolen all your dolls and has them sit in a highchair with them. Alexis isn’t too happy about it because she’s dead set on the fact they can’t sit in a highchair, but it’s okay._

_I guess I didn’t tell you. Alexis is Gabriel’s daughter. She’s six now, smart as they come. After Kali passed away when Alexis was born, Gabriel has been taking care of her like a champ. Partially it’s why I wanted him to be the godfather because I’d seen him with her and how gentle and sweet he is._

_She’s caring and kind, helps dress your brother some days and plays with him. The difference between the two of them in age is significant, but they don’t seem to notice it as much, which is great. Having her around is helping, in a way._

 

_I hope you’re safe there in heaven, Grace. Happy third heaven birthday._

 

 

* * *

 

_Hello sweetheart,_

_It’s your fifth heaven birthday today, hope it’s treating you well._

 

_I can’t stop wondering if you’d be like your brother and be in ballet or perhaps be more into books, soccer, the scouts. Your brother is perhaps a different kid. Just yesterday, he was all proud and ran to show us all - including Alexis. She was such a champ about it too, helps him out all the time._

_She reminds me of what one day, I imagined you would be. She makes me proud. Only eight but smart as they come (got that from her father) and she’s a little trickster. Oh, the times Gabriel has been called to her school. Maybe it’s getting out of hand, but at the same time, neither of us really seem to mind._

 

_Your mother is good. She’s happy. I am too, some days. Some days are still rough, some days I actually look for a third kid to pick up at school and wonder where you are. It’s alright though, the days are few and far between._

_Some nights, I only get out of bed because Gabriel asks me to do something or because he physically drags me out. It’s why I have your godfather here so close. He helps me pull through, distracts me. Just a month ago we all got sick and he made us soup. Tomato soup with pasta, one of your grandmother’s favorites. Don’t quote me on its love, but I think he called her for the receipt._

 

_Just the other day, I was looking through old photo albums and I found some of yours. It’s weird seeing your mother all round when she was still pregnant or the pictures of when you were just born. In some of them, you look so happy. We all do._

_One I will cherish forever. One, of your mother and the two of you. Jessica may no longer be my wife but she is still the mother of my children and I love her. God, I still love her with every inch of my soul. Just like I love you, little one. Just like every inch of heart muscle aches for you._

_But now, now I think the hierarchy has changed. There’s someone I’m quite possibly falling in love with and god is it weird to write this to my own daughter, but you deserve to know. Because they make me happy. They make me smile and laugh and take care of me and all I can be is confused._

_Since when can confusion hurt so much, Grace? Do you know?_

 

_I said this before, but I will say it again, Grace I hope heaven will treat you well. Take care darling._

_I will meet you there. ~~Soon.~~_

 

 

* * *

 

_Grace,_

_You’ve been in heaven for a little over eighteen years now. It’s been years since I wrote to you. A lot happened and I will not tell you all. I wouldn’t want to hurt you in that way. There’s been lows. Real lows. I’ve spend most of 2006 in a hospital, for my own safety. I did good for a long while, until 2011, when I had to go in for a couple of months again. It’s nothing I’m proud of, know that. I’m not proud of the almost hallucinations from not getting any sleep and the feverish looking for you everywhere in other moments._

_Your brother graduated a few days ago, top of his class. He’s so smart, you have absolutely no idea. I cannot remember if I told you he’s in ballet, but he still is. Has been for almost fourteen years now._ Wow. _He’s doing great, getting all the leading roles. Nick keeps telling me and your Godfather that he’s just getting them because there are two guys in their company and the other one doesn’t feel comfortable dancing them, but we all know that he’s just the better one out there._

_Where are the days we still got to hold you both close? Or the days that your brother had just learned to crawl, walk? Where are the endless pirouettes in our living room trying to find his balance? Where are the days that Gabriel and I had to sneak around in order not to wake any kids from their naps?_

 

_Today is closure, in a way. Your brother is walking down that stage like Alexis did three years ago. She’s twenty-one already. Oh god. Your oldest sister is already an adult, can you imagine? I still can’t. Even your brother would be considered an adult in many European countries. How did I ever become the father of two beautiful adults? Why did god ever bless me with all of you?_

_I see you standing there too, so perhaps, I should say three. My therapist – whom I still see every few weeks – thinks that it’s unhealthy in a way, the way I still think about you. I don’t think so. To me, it’s important. It’s important to see you age and grow, to imagine what you would be doing now. It gets me through the rougher days, even when Gabriel can’t help me through._

_In theory, I should say that I have five children running around. I don’t consider Emma or Grace as mine, but they are, biologically mine. Your mother and Sarah are married now, have been for a few years. Welcome to 2018, or well, welcome to the changes 2015 started bringing along. If you ask me, I would have never believed this would be possible._

_Two years before they married, they thought they were ready for another child. Both of them – and I do not blame them for it, I would be weirded out as well – were a little weary of getting pregnant with a random person’s sperm. They asked me if I’d be willing to donate. God, your mother and Sarah looked so awkward when they asked._

_I was too, trust me. But she’s got twin girls now. Grace and Emma are now five years old and thriving. They had a bit of a rough start – they were born just a few weeks early – but they’re doing great now. Seeing them in the NICU must have hurt your mother like no other, I know seeing them send_ me _in a week long period of not getting out of bed and feeling terrible. It was just a confrontation._

_But you know what, Grace? Your mother has always been a fighter; she has always been a lot stronger than me. She went through it all and now she has two beautiful, well-adjusted girls. Nick loves them, even though he’s a crabby teenager and his partner is a lot more interesting than playing with them. Though with his current boyfriend, they actually spend a lot of time with the squealing kids together. It’s almost adorable to see._

 

_Live is moving, it always does. Things change, relationships happen. Gabriel and I,_ we happened _. It was unexpected (at least to a lot of the people outside our household) but right what I needed at the time I needed it most. He’s been my rock the past years. Always there, always helping._

_It’s a mutual thing, really. He has his rough days with Kali’s loss, even after twenty-one years. We both aren’t always as stable as we make it out to be, but that’s okay. We’re getting by, surviving and that’s most important._

 

_Years ago, you could have told me I’d be standing here today and I’d laugh at your face, Grace. I’d laugh and tell you – I’m sorry for the language – that it was bullshit. Just a few years ago, I was just bad enough to tell you that I hoped I wouldn’t._

_Yet here we are today. I need to thank you, Grace. For letting us meet you, for bringing Gabriel and I together, for helping your mother find who she really belongs with. For being there, every step of the way. I don’t know how to explain, but you’ve been here through everything._

_Thank you._

 

_Grace. You’ve reached your last letter. Nick read all of his letters – I’m proud to say he teared up, called his boyfriend and then gave me a five-minute hug – just a few days ago. I think he cried a little too, but I can’t say. We looked through photo albums with his boyfriend for a solid hour. Anthony (your brother’s boyfriend) was introduced to you and he respectfully stayed silent, said that you looked a lot like the girls. It was nice, to talk about you again to a person who didn’t already know you._

_Nick is done getting stories and…so are you. This letter feels like a closing of a book, of a chapter._

_I won’t forget about you, about your little smiles and how strong willed you were, how long you fought. I will still remember you. But I won’t write letters to you like this anymore, it’s enough. You’d be fleeing the nest with your brother._

 

_Grace, farewell. Your tree is grown, matured. It’s final._

_I hope you’re safe up there. I will see you in heaven._

_Your father._

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [angels radio](http://angels-radio.livejournal.com/15168.html), hosted at LJ


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